Delia refused to admit she was lost.

Even to herself.

Neverthless, she was having an interesting time roaming aimlessly through the corridors of this monstrosity of a Super Star Destroyer looking for the quarters assigned her aboard ship.

Ship...no ship she'd ever seen(and, granted, she hadn't seen that many in her life)ran for kilometers on end...it even dwarfed the Imperial II Star Destroyer sent to Vagnar during the Ssi-ruuk invasion, to say nothing of the ships the Chiss had sent to assist it, and it went without saying the Darkness was swallowed up whole by the maw of this thing.

For the millionth time, she cursed herself for hitting the sims first, instead of following the other--

"Kriffing hell!" she interjected, running slap into the burnished metal chest of what appeared to be a refugee from one Clone Wars holothriller too many.

"I do wish you'd watch where you're going," the B2 super battle droid said, in an awfully close facsimile of that annoying M3PO's voice...he wasa droid, after all, it only stood to reason he could transfer his consciousness between droid brain matricies, but....

"You again," she remarked out loud. "I'd hoped to have left you behind on the Darkness."

"And I," Ellem replied, visibily annoyed,"had hoped to find an SD droid to upload myself into. Unfortunately for me, all they had to spare was this old clunker of a body."

"Its designation," he added sourly,"is FLF-E27."

Delia couldn't help but snicker.

"Yes," a visibily irritated Ellem said,"go ahead, call me Fluffy, you wouldn't be the first in thirty kriffing years to do so, and you won't be the last."

"This," Delia replied,"is your originial body?"

"Yes," Ellem replied,"it is, and I had hoped to avoid it altogether after uploading myself into some unsuspecting M3PO's brain an instant before the shutdown signal got sent nearly thirty years ago; who would've known the Vast Empire would keep this body around for spare parts."

"Our nephew," he added, falling into step with Delia as she began walking,"has a perverse sense of humor at times."

"Why are you here?" Delia asked, Ellem replied,"you'll encountering more droids than you can fire a blaster at in due time, at least according to our nephew. He had me tag along to...well, babysit you."

"No thanks," Delia replied, starting to walk ahead of Ellem, the droid calling out,"plans of the Atrus are located next to the turbolifts on each level; you should have no trouble finding your quarters from there."

"Thanks," Delia said curtly, continuing to walk away from her unwanted, unneeded, unasked-for babysitter.

Who the hell was her nephew? 

-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

[-=Phoenix Wing=-]

FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)[SoA]

"So tell the judge I'm ready for the vases.
I'll dance in their faces when the guitar sounds.
Won't be long, I won't be gone.
Been leaning towards the shadows all along.

This is it... I'm finally here...

A young man dressed in casual clothes waited outside a plain, white metallic door. He might of looked like a normal civilian to any passer by,  but he wasn't. He stood out amongst the crowd, carrying an air of pride and tradition. His face remained calm, his green eye's locked onto the number that was planted above the door.

This is where I begin my career as a Pilot, and this is where I become a legend...

He slowly closed his eyes, letting the darkness envelope him for a brief second, and took a long, deep breath. When his lungs felt like they could hold no more, he stopped, and held all the air in.

With this breath, I shall let everything behind me go. I will release all my tension, anger, and guilt. I will leave everything that will stop me from completing my goal, dream, and love go...

His face started to turn red, but he couldn't let the air out yet.


With this breath! I leave the past.... behind.

The young man then slowly exhaled, letting the cold air slide across his lips and out into the world around him. He slowly opened his eyes, letting the world around him come back into view. He then took a step forward, and watched as the automated door before him slid open, revealing the small room within. The room was as bleak as the corridor outside, the only thing seeming to stand out was the wooden desk, and the Grey metallic chair that had its back to the desk. The young mans green eye's swiveled past the desk and chair, and out into the black void with tiny specs of white.

The sight of space comforted him, and seemed to be like a magnet to his eyes. A voice startled the young Pilot, but he did not show it.

"You can come in," said a kind voice. Valin brought his eyes down to where the chair was, and saw a man not to much older then him. His hair was a tad bit lighter then Valin's, and was also longer. His eye's were light blue. They were kind eye's, but at the same time some what intimidating.

Valin slowly stepped into the room, and stopped as he heard the door behind him slide shut. The man in front of him just looked at Valin, a puzzled look on his face.

"And you are..."

"Crewman Valin Dane, sir. I was ordered to report to Squadron Commander Trevor Evenson, and receive further orders from there..." Valin shut his mouth, and then quickly opened it again, "Sir."

A look of surprise came across the Squadron Commander's face. "Another new recruit? Again? Wow,"
exclaimed the Squadron Commander, "They've just been racking them up haven't they?" Asked the man to no one in particular, "Well Valin, you've come to the right place. Welcome to Nazgul Squadron, the best of the best," said Trevor with a grin.

"Thank you, sir." Replied Valin.

Trevor stood up and walked around the wooden table. He placed himself in front of Valin, and then stuck out his hand. "Let me properly introduce myself."

Valin stuck out his hand,  firmly gripped Trevor's, and shook. "Its and honor to meet you sir, and it is also an honor to serve Nazgul squadron. I hope I can serve you to the best of my ability's, and I can guarantee that I will not, let you down."

Trevor let go of Valin's hand, and strode back to his desk. "You seem so sure of yourself, I like that in a Pilot. Just don't get to confident, I've seen what happens to overly confident people, and its never good," replied Trevor, a brief look of sadness coming across his face and then dissapearing. "Well, I got some work to do. You can go to your room and get comfy if you want, but don't get to comfortable because pretty soon, were going on a mission. And that mission... will be your first," said Trevor with a smile.

Valin was in total disbelief. He had just arrived on the ship, and on the Squadron, and he was already going on his first mission. A cocky grin started to snake its way across his face, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"I can't wait to get started..."

And with that, Valin was on his way to becoming another great Pilot, and keeping his family tradition strong.
 
-----------------------
FM/CRW/Valin Dane/Nazgul 3-4/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

She didn't know how long she'd been studying and reading, before her holodisplay blinked out, and the words:

Commander Evenson:
Your transport will be leaving in thirty minutes rather than an hour. Assemble your pilots and meet in Hanger B in time for lift off.


floated in the air in front of her, Delia getting out of her chair, picking her duffel and pilot pack off the bed where she'd left them, walking quickly out of her quarters, down the corridor, and into a turbolift, glancing at the map of the Atrus before getting on to get her bearings.

It wasn't long before she was at Hangar B, most of the rest of the squadron already standing round a Sentinel-class shuttle, Delia sighing, as she handed her gear to a labor droid to stow on board.

A few moments later, the squadron commander, Trevor, entered the hangar bay, stopping a second to breathe in all the smells Delia herself loved to breathe in, all the smells of air- and spacecraft being readied for takeoff or serviced after landing.

After a moment, Trevor turned to his pilots and said:

"Alright everyone, we're just about ready to leave. I know you're all not totally sure of what is planned for this mission, aside from the fact that we are headed to Abrae. I don't know many details myself, and we'll be briefed when we arrive there. It's a three hour trip, so expect a bit more information while we fly."

For a squadron lead, he's not very inspiring, Delia observed to herself, watching him jam his hands nervously in his pockets.

"Well, let's get aboard, and get buckled in," Trevor said, for lack of anything better to say, Delia clambering up the rear ramp, finding the nearest seat and belting herself in, just as the ion engines cut in, and the shuttle lifted from the deck.

((Edited to add an opening quote))

-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

[-=Phoenix Wing=-]

FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)[SoA]

"So tell the judge I'm ready for the vases.
I'll dance in their faces when the guitar sounds.
Won't be long, I won't be gone.
Been leaning towards the shadows all along.

"Listen up everybody," Trevor said, when they were clear of the Atrus. "From what I heard--and this is all they're telling me--we're being pitted against Droid Fighters."

Droid fighters? Delia thought, remembering the rumors she'd heard in Academy about the techs on Abrae working on droid TIE fighters.

That was what that walking scrapheap meant by me running into more droids than I could point a blaster at, she observed.

It also explained why they were going down to Abrae in a shuttle, rather than their own fightercraft...chances were, they were going to fly captured or backengineered Rebel starfighters for this mission.

"Apparently," Trevor continued, as Delia consulted her datapad for everything she could find on droid-controlled starfighters, " no squadron in the VE has beaten them yet, and I expect were going to be the first. But that also means another thing; they're not ordinary Droid Fighters. Expect them to fly like Skilled Pilots, not like regular Droid ships we're used to seeing. I heard there revamped or something, so what ever they have in store  for us will be pretty tough,"

An idiot's array really isn't always the winning hand, is it? Delia thought to herself, finding the thirty-year old files on Seppie droid starfighters to be both helpful and singularlly illuminating.

No point asking Trevor if they were going to be flying Rebel machines, since, for one, it was kriffing obvious they would be, and, secondly, he almost certainly didn't know the answer to that question either.

He looks like he doesn't know a hell of a lot of things, she thought to herself.

And, she added, now reading the updated squadron roster on her datapad,I have the sinking feeling that two of those things just happen to be leadership and flying.

"What?!" she snapped at some stupid-looking nerf fragger watching her intently from a seat nearest the cockpit.

"I mean, you're looking at me like you're kriffing brain damaged," she added," which, considering you are a male, is no doubt a congenital condition."

Her right hand going to the butt of her holstered Thunderer heavy blaster, she then added,"in any case, you'd best turn around and look somewhere else, before I put those beady eyes of yours out."

"Permanently," she told him. 

 
-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

[-=Phoenix Wing=-]

FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)[SoA]

"So tell the judge I'm ready for the vases.
I'll dance in their faces when the guitar sounds.
Won't be long, I won't be gone.
Been leaning towards the shadows all along.

(As Trevor delivers the in-flight briefing)

Again, Delia observed, after hearing Trevor tell her they were going up in Interceptors after all,an idiot's array isn't always the winning hand.

Oh well, life continues, she thought, turning her attention to the specs on the droid TIEs they would be going up against, tuning out the rest of the briefing...the problem with using droid fighters in the past was they were...well, droids, with little or no ability to improvise when their programming failed them in battle, making them vape bait for any but the most inexpirienced pilot.

The spec sheet was deliberately vague on the specs for the brain of the fighter, other than it was an advanced type of droid brain matrix light-years beyond anything the Seppies had fielded during the Clone Wars...a HoloNet search on 'droid starfighters' had come up with only a single entry which was even close to matching the specifications, an article in the latest issue of Aerospace Quarterly discussing Cybot Galactica's expirimental Ace-6 droid brain.

And, that was years away from prototype.

She studied the specs further, putting the question of what was piloting these fighters to the side for now...ten lasers, eight concussion missiles, improved performance in atmosphere and space, in terms of both speed and maneuveribility, a larger reactor, similar to the one installed on the TIE Advanced x1 or the Aggressor.

She had to admit she liked the lines...if they could just develop a piloted TIE which looked like this....

She nodded her head, as the shuttle reentered atmosphere over Abrae.

(many hours later)

She was in the mess hall of the quarters assigned to Nazgul, studying the specs of the droid fighters over her third mug of black caf.

Or, maybe it was her fifth, she'd lost count, and she couldn't sleep to begin with...they'd all been waiting for her the instant she'd closed her eyes, they always would be....

"All work and no play makes Delia a very dull girl," that annoying droid's voice said, Delia looking up to see a  C3PO with a  chipped, dull-green finish refreshing her mug of caf.

"You again?" she remarked, sighing, as she sipped her caf.

"I can't babysit you stuck on the Atrus, now can I?" Ellem replied. "And, a super battle droid body isn't exactly going to blend in at the headquarters of the Vast Empire Navy."

"Or many other places either," Delia replied. "Have you ever stayed in one body for longer than five minutes?"

"As an R2 unit," Ellem replied,"I once served at a Rebel outpost somewhere along the Braxant Run for eight months, and not a one of them was any the wiser I wasn't what I appeared to be, not until the Imperials flattened the outpost and destroyed the more fortunate...."
...the neuronic whip came down again, the nine-year old girl cowering in a brutalized heap at the feet of the Human who'd "rented" her for the weekend....

...she shuddered, the mug sloshing hot caf all over her sleeve, Delia cursing, Ellem, genuine concern in his voice, saying,"hold on, I'll go get a medpac."

"I'm fine," Delia replied, shaking her head, burying herself in her studies.

"At least get some sleep," Ellem insisted.

"I'm fine," Delia repeated, gulping down some more caf.

(Roughly twenty minutes before 0600)

She had hurried through her showers, dressing in her flight suit and grabbing her flight pack on her way out, Delia being the first one on board the Freerunner sent to fetch the Nazguls, the rest of the squadron filing out after her, most of them still half asleep as they mounted up, Trevor the last one to get on board, after the rest of his people, a couple pilots trying to start a conversation with her, Delia ignoring them, staring out at the bleak landscape between their barracks and Field L.

That was also the Academy training field, Delia having....

"...Fierfek!" she swore, two of the four Venom Squadron Interceptors going up, the A-Wings piloted by Chief Stewar and his fellow instructors converging on them at full speed.

"Oh," Chief Stewar said with a chuckle over comms,"did I forget? This is a live-fire exercise."

"Good," Delia whispered, switching her weapons to live fire.

"Good," she repeated....

...less than fond memories of the last time she was here.

Twelve brand-new TIE Interceptors were parked in a single neat rank on the opposite side of the field from the droids...now that she'd seen them, she was even more impressed with their lines, wishing they could make a piloted craft with the same asthetic(and, yes, the same amount of firepower....).

She followed the others off the Freerunner, taking her place next to Tomas--the newest roster change having made her the flight leader's new wingman--as Trevor stood in front of the others, ready to deliver the final briefing prior to launch.

((Edited because Alt+0151 isn't recognized here ))

-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

[-=Phoenix Wing=-]

FM/SCRW Delia "Evil Clown" Cael/Nazgul 3-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)[SoA]

"So tell the judge I'm ready for the vases.
I'll dance in their faces when the guitar sounds.
Won't be long, I won't be gone.
Been leaning towards the shadows all along.

Tomas was relaxing in his bunk when his datapad made a beeping noise. Picking it up and taking a glance at it the screen was blank except for a short message:

Commander Evenson:
Your Transport will be leaving in thirty minutes rather then an hour. Assemble your pilots and meet in Hanger B in time for lift off.

Putting the datapad down, Tomas lay back on his bed again for a brief moment in order to collect himself. The scheduling change was no sweat off his back. All his life Tomas had been one of those people who were always prepared and this occasion was no exception. Another minute passed before Tomas got up, stretched, grabbed the gear he had packed earlier and was out the door on his way towards the hangar. As he passed the other rooms he could faintly hear others as they frantically packed their belongings.

Moving through the halls at casual pace, Tomas rounded a corner and barely managed to avoid being run over by a techie pushing a cart of tools and small parts. Although they had avoided any sort of collision, Tomas' unexpected arrival had caused the tech to jump slightly. The twitch of fright made his cart swerve and crash to the floor, spilling tools in the process.

"Sorry about scaring you like that," Tomas chuckled putting down his bag and bending down to help the technician pick up the scattered parts.

"Scare me? You didn't scare me...I must've hit a bump." the technician stammered in response. Riiiiiight Tomas thought to himself with a smirk, running his hand along the smooth floor as he picked up another piece. It took a little longer than Tomas expected to track down and pick up all the parts, but before long Tomas was back on his feet and on his way to the hangar.

Arriving at the hangar and making his way onto the shuttle designated to take the squadron to Abrae Tomas noted that even with the delay he was one of the first pilots aboard. That was another thing that had been constant for ages...sometimes it was because he was better prepared, other times it was due to the fact that he was anxious to get where he was going. Either way, Tomas was early...always. It didn't matter what he going to be doing or where he was going, but it just worked out that he would frequently arrive earlier than he intended.

Over the next few minutes, the rest of the squadron filed onto the shuttle and took their seats. Everyone had just finished settling in when a voice spoke over the intercom:

"This is Thartan Defelice speaking, your pilot for the ride down to Abrae. We have perfect conditions inside the atmosphere of the planet, and there shouldn't be a single bump on the way down. It should take around two and a half to three hours to reach the planet's atmosphere, and other then that I have nothing to report. We have the thumbs up for lift off, so buckle up and get comfy."

Tomas sat back briefly taking in the familiar sounds of a spacecraft lifting off, before turning his attention to Trevor at the back of the shuttle.

"Listen up everybody," Trevor said, beginning the briefing, "From what I heard, and this is all they're telling me; we're being pitted against droid fighters. Apparently, no squadron in the VE has beaten them yet, and I expect we're going to be the first. But that also means another thing; they're not ordinary droid fighters. Expect them to fly like skilled pilots, not like regular droid ships we're used to seeing. I heard they are revamped or something, so what ever they have in store for us will be pretty tough,"

"So its not really a mission?" Delia spoke up matter-of-factly.

"Well, technically, its not. Our lives aren't on stake, but our pride as a squadron is. Treat it like a real mission, and if we lose, treat it as if we lost our lives," said Trevor, with a look of total seriousness. "Thats all they told me, we'll be given further information and orders when we get there. So for now, just sit back, and get as much rest as you can because this is going to be a tough one."

Tomas looked around at the other pilots and noticed a number of new faces compared to their last mission. He had only been in the Navy for a very short time, but someone or ones must have seen promise in him as he had quickly risen in rank and had even been assigned the position of Leader for Flight Three. Following the last mission, Tomas had experienced the loss of his entire flight; one in battle and two to another squadron. Replacing them were two new pilots and Chak Fel who had been moved over from Flight Two. Tomas had made sure to do his homework on his flightmates in order to know what to expect. The result: he had been wracking his brain for a day or so now trying to figure out how he could get through to them effectively. He had been given access to the results of their personality reports they had undergone while in training and things weren't going to be easy.

Having limited interaction with Chak, Tomas had got the impression that it was going to take some time to get to know the pilot and get on a level they would be comfortable working at. The other two were no better. The report had explicitly cited that some of Delia's responses and reactions had raised flags concerning issues with authority figures. Valin's report on the other hand had indicated a possibility of later loyalty issues, based on the personal history he had provided. They were things Tomas would definitely have to keep his eye on.

* On the Planet's Surface - 0530 *

The time had gone by quickly since Nazgul landed on Abrae. Tomas had gotten in a few hours of decent sleep and the rest he had spent researching what he could about these droid Interceptors that they would be up against.

Approaching the landing field, Tomas checked and confirmed that this was in fact "Field L" where they would be launching from. He was early as usual and took the extra time to take in the sight of the aesthetically-pleasing droid fighters before checking in with technician working on last minute adjustments to his own fighter. Satisfied, Tomas sat on one of many crates scattered about the landing field waiting for the rest of the squadron...
 
-----------------------
Petty Officer 2nd Class 'Tomas' Dagoram
FL/PO2 Tomas/Nazgul 3-1/mSSS Atrus/VEN/VE (=*A*=) [MC1]

"Fight on and fly on to the last drop of blood, the last drop of fuel, to the last beat of the heart."

(when we landed on the planet)

As the shuttle landed, several of the Nazgul pilots were eager to disembark the craft.  Several anxiously lined up and secured their luggage on their backs.  Darius, however, remained seated and looked inside his backpack one last time, making sure he did not forget anything.

Once the shuttles ramp began opening, the Nazguls flocked off the shuttle, except for Jen, Trevor, and Darius.  The three veterans and oldest members of the squadron casually walked off together and absorbed every detail of the military base.

"I guess those are the fighters," Jen pointed to in the distance.  The squadrons were placed opposite of each other on the landing field, each group looking as immaculate as the other.

"It appears so," Trevor added, a hint of nervousness trickled out of his tone that Darius picked out.

"We fly new Interceptors...not bad," Darius quietly added in a cold tone.  "Would you like an insurance policy commander?"

"By insurance policy you mean...?" Trevor questioned, imagining all the possibilities there are with Darius' certain...expertise in the field of explosives.

"I could easily sneak onto the field and rig some...presents onto our targets.  All or a few...none would be fair though."

"Darius," Trevor started and looked into the sunset.  "I'll get back to you on that after our first round."

"Ever heard of the phrase, 'it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission?'" Darius added.  He began reaching into the back of his bag.

"Darius," Trevor added, growing somewhat impatient.  "I believe our squadron can handle this situation.  Even though there are a lot of new faces, I believe we still hold our reputation."

"Well," Darius said, his tone was now chilling to the spine, "you know where the guns and the...presents are.  Watch what you say, this place is covered with cameras."

With that said Darius quickened his pace and left Jen with Trevor to discuss the current situation.  He quickly caught up to the rest of the squadron as they examined the field from a distance.  Darius eyes happend to wander around the squadron, as he examined new faces.  The unpredictable Delia caught his eyes and soured up immediately.

"Do I need to cut your eyes out too?" she said in a volatile voice.

Such a comment was something Darius did not acquire often and his interest was intrigued.  Test time.

"I'd rather lop your head off," Darius said coldly and quietly, not to attract the attention of the rest of the squadron.  He slowly reached back and revealed the sword on his back, unsheathing it slowly and only slightly.

Delia's eyes watched the archaic melee device and dropped her hand to her blaster.  "I'd like to see you beat my draw that sword."

Darius cracked a small smile, "I'd like to see your draw beat my dead-eye aim on your forehead."

Delia's eyes quickly darted off the sword to Darius' left hand which  was at his hip, calmly aiming a hold-out blaster at her forehead.  She tried her hardest to hide her surprise, but Darius knew...he always knows.

"Respect your superiors," Darius added, almostly menacingly.  "Or else."

"Is that a threat?" Delia asked coldly, still eyeing Darius steady aim on her forehead.  The rest of the squadron was still oblivious their conflict.

"Not a threat," Darius said, "Just a promise."

*****

The next day, Darius rose early and prepped his fighter before anyone else and returned to eat breakfast at the mess.  When the time came for the squadron to board their fighters, Darius was with them, eyeing the cameras and every other detail that he thought could be a threat.  He trusted no one.
 
-----------------------
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
-----------------------
FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) (=*SA*=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

"Nazgul 2, check."

"Nazgul 3, check!"

Valin listened over the intercom as one by one, his squadron mates checked in. He could feel his hands trembling slightly, the combined feeling of being nervous and excited was too much for him to handle.

Valin eased back into his seat and closed his eyes, letting the thrum of the ships twin Ion engines comfort him. He put his hand on the yoke, gripped it tight for a second, and then let it go loose. Valin opened his eyes, and scanned the controls one last time to make everything was just right. He wanted his first mission to go perfect, and more then anything, he wanted to take these droid ships out of the sky.

Something felt wrong though. He could barely feel it, but he knew something bad was going to happen, whether he liked it or not. Just calm down Valin, and do what you do best. Stick to the basics, and you'll have them in your sights, thought Valin as he tried to reassure himself.

Valin listened as his Wingman checked in over the Squadron channel, sounding a tad bit to confident. A second later, Valin checked in.

"This is Nazgul 12, I'm all green and ready to go," Valin said, sounding way more confident then he felt.

"Good, now lets kick some droid ass!" Trevor shouted into the intercom.

Valin took this as the signal, and kicked in his repulsor coils, slowly easing his ship off the ground. When he felt he was a good twenty meters off the ground, he kicked in the thrust for the twin ion engines, and shot off into the air.

The conditions were perfect for flying, not a single cloud in sight. It would be easy to spot the fighters in this weather, but the same went for the enemy, and that mean Valin couldn't let the fighter get on his tail. That's what my Wingman is for though&

"Nazgul Lead, this is ten," Delia said over the comm, breaking Valin's train of thought. "I have twelve bandits, repeat, bandits, coming at us three o' clock high, closing rapidly."

"I think we can all see that, Delia," sneered Valin to himself as he turned his head towards the radar. It showed twelve red dots closing in on the squadron, and they were coming in fast. So they want to play fast? I'll throw it right back at them, thought Valin to himself as he formed up on flight three.

Valin watched as a flight of the droid fighters rose up in an immelman, and he realized that they were going to try and get the drop on Nazgul, but they wouldn't let that happen. After an order from Trevor, flight four had risen in altitude to intercept the droid fighters.

Valin was on the left outer edge of the formation, the rest of his flight to his right. He also saw who is first target would be, which turned out to be the droid farthest to the left.

Just as the two flights were about to collide, they both let out shots, some striking and some not. Valin managed to get two hits on the droids forward shields, and then quickly jammed the yoke into his chest to pull up from getting hit. He let his fighter increase in altitude, and then rolled port and turned sharp after finishing the role.

This brought him head to head with the droid fighter again, which annoyed Valin quite a bit. "If you think I'm gonna let you get on my tail, your wrong, dead wrong," growled Valin to himself as the distance between the two fighters closed.

Valin let his target reticule ease onto the droids ship, and when he felt he had a good shot, he let out three bursts of linked cannon fire. Unfortunately, the droid had seen this coming, and quickly pulled up, letting Valin shoot under the droid.

"Damnit!" Shouted Valin as he quickly rolled to port and then brought his nose down into a dive. Valin let the dive continue for three more seconds before sharply pulling up and break turning Starboard. The fighter stuck with hi m though and was quickly gaining ground.

Just then a thought struck Valin, and he knew what he had to do. Valin pushed the speed of his TIE to the max, and yanked the stick back as hard as he could. Valin could feel himself sink back into the cushion of his seat, the gravity pushing him into it.

A tinge of red surrounded Valin's vision, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Just as he was about to reach 20,000 feet, Valin jammed the yoke into his chest once again; bringing him into a sharp loop that sent his head spinning. Once he completed the loop, he executed a dive.

Valin had taken the droid off guard by this move, and it hadn't executed the loop as well as he had. It was still on his tail though, and was once again gaining ground. Valin started to slowly ease the throttle back, so slow that the droid wouldn't take notice. The droid started to gain even more ground on Valin now, and he was finally within firing range. This is when Valin had to act.

Valin brought his ship into a wide roll, and slowly spun the opposite way as he did so. He watched as his speed dropped at an enormous rate, and to his success, the droid fighter shot past him. The strain was enormous for Valin though, to suddenly slow your speed in such a way. He could feel his neck muscles bulge as he did this, and his vision began to waver, but he held on, and quickly punched the throttle to full.

Valin managed to let a weak grin come across his face, knowing that he had just won a small part of this battle.

 
-----------------------
FM/SCRW/Valin Dane/Nazgul 3-12/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]

The first ting that the droid fighters did was seperate the members of flight two, as if they already knew the flight's key weapon before the battle had even started...maybe they did.  Based on the isolated personalities of the flight members and more so their leader, an observer who had not seen the flight in action would probably assume that they would prefer to fight isolated.  However, their teamwork that Darius had hewn into them in their short existence was actually their greatest asset.  In other...deadlier circumstances, Darius might have worried about this fact...maybe.

Damn droids, he thought to himself as he dodged another volley.  His fighter rocked as he burst through an air current while executing an immelman.

"Use the weather to your advantage boys," Darius ordered, whipping his fighter around to meet his pursuer.  "It's all they may give us in this engagement."

"Copy that five," Hunter acknowledged.

"Where'd you go you bastard," Darius muttered to himself.  A green flash illuminated underneath him, giving him a fraction of a second to avoid the droids barrage.  He barely escaped a direct contact and threw his laser power in to his shields to hold them above 40%.  The droid immediately executed a loop that would force any living organism to unconciousness and tear any regular fighter to shreds.  In moments, the droid was back on his tail.

"Alright you bastard, let's see how you handle this," Darius muttered again, hitting the wind current once more and punch his air brake.  He immediately caught the current and flew back.  Since the droid were more aerodynamically designed, they could not executed such a maneuver and the fighter cut through the current like a knife through hot butter.

Darius punched his throttle and turned the tide on the fighter.  Now he was in pursuit.  He link in cannons and followed the fighter as it jinked and zigged to avoid Darius' lock on it.

"Where the hell did he go?" Raigen exclaimed over the com.

"Darius' dive!" Hunter yelled.  Raigen's missing fighter had disengaged to help the prey of Darius.  The Nazgul flight leader snapped off his a shot and dove.  Two of the four laser blasts connected with the droid.

Darius dove into a canyon that was hewn into the planet's surface by an ancient river.  The droid did not follow him into the canyon.

"Nazgul five!" shouted a perturbed voice from the complex.  "Return to the correct altitude or be removed from the battle."

"How are we suppose to compare our skills to these droids with these kind of restrictions?" Darius asked in a harsh, cold voice, and pulled up and out of the canyon.  His warning klaxon errupted briefly, met by a linked cannon blast from his pursuer.  Darius shields vanished and he fought to keep his fighter from crashing into the ground.  Now other klaxons were blaring in his ear.

"I'm hit bad guys," Darius announced to the squadron.  "Hunter, take my droid out, he's gotta be close."

"Yessir," Hunter replied.

"Well command, your rules may just kill me," Darius said.  "Prep a retrieval and med team, I'm going to attempt to fly back to base."

"Will do five...sorry," the complex flight controller said.

Darius watched as his power readings dropped and he began to slow from engine failure.  He turned off all the warning alarms and one beep remained, a message from one of the droid fighters.

I apologize for inflicting damage that exceeded the controlled limit.  When we return from our engagement, I will report this error to the technicians.

"I'm sure," Darius muttered and prepped for a crash landing.
 
-----------------------
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
-----------------------
FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) (=*SA*=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

Trevor cut his throttle and rammed the airbrake to its stops while pulling back hard on the stick. The inverted dive worked better then he planned and his ship swung around in a much nicer turn than the TIE droid. Because of his larger shape he was able to slow down faster and ultimately make his turn a tiny bit tighter. Jen was following close behind the droid fighter, making attempts to get it off his tail. He was relaying his planned movements to her, but had a strange feeling that the droid was able to pick up on his transmissions.

"Alright, I'm going to accelerate and brake again, this time throwing my fighter to the left." He told Jen, releasing the airbrake and pushing his throttles to full once again. The fighter shook as the engines grabbed the air and shot him forward. He nearly always found himself throwing his fighter to the left, and couldn't really figure out why he did it. The droid was starting to catch on, but Trevor was yet to really realize this.

"Copy that Trev, I'll slow down a little so the droid pulls ahead of me a bit better." Jen replied, dropping her throttle 10% so the droid would be able to slip in between her and Trevor. At the same time Trevor cut his throttle again and yanked the control yoke to the left, sending the TIE into a hard right bank. The TIE followed almost perfectly, but Jen was able to finally get a cannon lock. She spun the knobs on the targeting computer and when she got the final beep, she punched her trigger.

A quad blast of green bolts erupted from her cannons and connected with the shields of the enemy TIE. It had learned from the mistakes of those who had been taken out already and instead of following Trevor any longer, it veered off to the upper right, away from the two Nazgul pilots.

"Too close, I was down to 67% shields, but they are climbing." Trevor said, beginning to wonder how he would feel if he were to be taken out and had to sit and watch his squadron from the ground. Dairus was down already, and he wasn't sure how long the others could last. Delia had already gotten four kills and Trevor was surprised, but accredited it to beginners luck and the fact that the droids probably hadn't dialed in to Nazgul's way of flying yet.

"Well, we better get over and help out someone else, we've already lost two." Jen said, cruising off of Trevor left wing.

"Two? Who else?" Trevor asked, finding it hard to believe that he had missed someone saying they were shot down.

"Chak was shot down about 25 seconds ago while you were whipping around trying to not die too. I'm guessing you missed it." Jen explained as the two pilots turned their craft in the general direction of the main battle. The dogfight had spread out but you could still see two on two dogfights all over the sky.

*** A minute or two ago ***

Chak pushed his fighter into a spiral dive, trying to out-wit his opponent. He quietly figured that if he pulled out of the dive when it was least expected, the droid might overshoot him and give him precious seconds to flee. He counted his rotations, and on the 7th he pulled out. The droid did fall for the move and kept in the spiral dive another rotation, enough for Chak to begin his escape. Unluckily he couldn't really hide anywhere, and the droid was quickly back onto him with help from its superior speed.

His wingman nowhere in site, Chak attempted another basic maneuver to avoid the droid. A quickly acted out a quick split-s, but to no avail. The droid was too hard on him, and winning in a turn would prove to be difficult. He threw the fighter into a sharp right, the forces threatening to tear him from his harnesses. He could feel his left side beginning to numb up as the belts cut off circulation to his left side limbs. A few seconds later the cockpit was vibrated by a series of shots that brought the shields on his fighter down to 36%. The droid quickly broke off, recognizing its kill, and Chak dejectedly slammed his fist against the control panel.

"Damn!" He said loudly as he swung the fighter in the direction of the landing field. It took him just moments to get to it after he got under their 'safe' altitude, and he set the fighter down roughly on the green grass. He quickly popped the cockpit open and tossed his helmet out of the fighter hard, jumping down to the ground without waiting for a ladder to be wheeled over and set up. He saw Darius hop off a nearby hover cart, carrying his helmet.

"They got you too?" He asked, looking around quickly for Darius' fighter. His was the only one on the field, and it had quickly been surrounded by techs who were disabling it to make sure he wouldn't become air born and go to help his friends.

"Yeah, the bastards did a bit too much damage though and I had to take 'er down roughly. Needless to say these scientists weren't pleased with me." Darius said as coolly as if he had just stepped off a chartered transport. He didn't seem to be shaken up at all by his crash landing.

"Oh. Well, now all we can do is watch." Chak sighed, defeated. Darius nodded, turning his eyes towards the sky that was being torn apart by green streaks. The air around the field seemed to be thick with the screeching of the TIEs, and both pilots had to feel a little bit helpless as they watched their comrades gracefully battle an automated foe.

*** Back in the sky ***

Trevor and Jen showed up just in time to see Hunter engage one of the droids. Raigen was giving him a bit of a hand, but the droids' analyzers had already helped them learn from the Nazgul pilots. By working together, all of the droids could easily know who they were engaging and what to expect from each pilot. Damn, I see why the other squadrons had trouble against these bastards. They learn so fast!Trevor thought to himself in frustration and the droid scored a hit on Hunter's shield.

"What are you sitting at 6?" Trevor asked as he pulled up on Raigen's wing, trailing the droid fighter but not being able to get a decent angle. Hunter's reply took him a moment as he jinked upward and applied half brake before turning sharply left. He is attempt was to throw the fighter off with a totally random move, and it almost worked. The enemy fighter overshot, but instead of continuing his straight course, Hunter turned back to the right and the droid simply braked and dropped in behind him again.

"I'm at 65% and climbing. Just keep him off me for a little bit longer." Hunter pleaded, annoyed with himself for making the mistake of not keeping on his course. A quick touch of a few buttons and he had transferred some of his weapon energy into his shields, bringing them back up to 85%. He was thinking about adding the rest of the weapon power into his engines, but stopped, nervous of a possible overload.

"Alright, we'll do our best." Trevor acknowledged, suddenly wondering what had happened to the rest of his flight. They had been separated at the start of the battle by a group of droids, and Trevor wasn't having much luck with the comms. Raigen came over the comm. almost right after Trevor finished talking to Hunter.

"Give me a bit of room, I'm gunna line up a shot." He said, and Trevor and Jen complied by quickly dropping back to give him room on either side. Raigen, with a fine tuned hand, positioned his fighter behind the pursuing droid, getting as close as he could with his lower speed. At last he was in position and rapidly aligned his sights with the control knobs on the targeting computer. His fighter sprouted four green tracers from each wingtip, followed by two other sets of four. Only his first set connected with the fighter, but it was enough to buy Hunter some time.

Unlike the one Jen and Trevor had encountered, this fighter seemed to hesitate before veering off course. It had followed Hunter for another 5 seconds before pulling off to the upper right. Raigen cursed and made a move to follow the fighter.

"Leave it for now Raigen, stick with your wingman" Trevor ordered quickly, and Raigen fell back into formation on Hunter's wing. Hmm, both of those fighters fled to the upper right when they were fit. Maybe it's a flaw in the programming that we can exploit& He thought to himself as he and Jen kept in line with Raigen and Hunter. The only problem was he couldn't easily tell his squadron that they may have found a flaw. The droids could intercept their transmissions when they were left un-encoded and anticipate moves. That's it! Every pilot's comm. system is able to unscramble coded messages from other pilots who code their messages. Well, when the pilot receiving has the same decoder chip in his comm. as the pilot sending. Everyone in the squadron has the same chip, and it's unique to our squadron& He reminded himself. Most of the time they would be reminded to turn on the coding, but today the scientists had left it out of the briefing and No one in the squadron really thought of it. He quickly set his comm. to code his messages.

"Nazgul Squadron, this is Nazgul Leader. Set your comm. units to code your messages, so the droids can't intercept them." Trevor ordered, then waited a moment. A minute later Hunter came through over the comm.

"I wondered how they knew exactly what I was going to do when I was only sending to Raigen. Maybe this'll even the odds a b-" Hunter stopped, his shields being pelted by a rain of green from above. One of the droids had snuck up on them by flying overtop of them to hide its radar signature and when the moment was right it plunged downward, attacking its previous target. Hunter's shields blinked out and a couple of the bolts connected with his wing pylons, sending shards of metal in all directions.

"Ah! I'm hit pretty bad, I'm taking her down Trev. Hopefully she'll hold together on me." Hunter exclaimed, dropping his fighter below the 500 foot safe marker as the droid ripped away before Trevor, Jen or Raigen even had a chance to react.

"Raigen, you join up with flight three. Things are about to get hellish." Jen said, as if reading Trevor's mind. Raigen nodded, but neither could see. They assumed his silence was an acknowledgment as they watched him drop below them and make his way towards where flight three was in a long, sweeping bank to the left.

Hunter was having difficulty bringing his TIE in. Every time he turned just slightly, the fighter shuddered horribly and threatened to tear itself apart at the seams. He reached the field and counted only one other fighter, but spotted two Nazgul pilots that he recognized as Darius and Chak. Out of frustration for getting shot down so early in, Hunter set his fighter down very roughly, cutting the repulsors almost 15 feet off the ground. The fighter dropped like a rock, and upon contact, the weakened wing pylons gave out. The cockpit ball dropped heavily onto the ground, and the wings teetered for a minute before collapsing inward and enshrouding the cockpit. Hunter undid his safety harness and kicked at the transperisteel, but it did nothing to aid his escape of the fighter.

A small group of techs quickly rushed over and began shoving the wings off the ball, so Hunter could pop the hatch and get out. As soon as they finished, the hatch burst open and Hunter crawled out, hopping to the ground. Darius and Chak strode over to greet the disheartened pilot.

"I have to think your landing was a bit more dramatic then mine." Chak laughed. Darius nodded solemnly, knowing they were down another pilot, and handed Hunter a water bottle from a nearby table that had been set up.

"Are they screwed up there?" Darius asked.

"From the looks of things, they may be." Hunter replied, cracking the seal of the water bottle and chugging it down.

"Alright, well, we can't just let them lose. I think it's time for a ground based attack." Darius said in a hushed tone, nodding in the direction of a sign near the landing field that had a bunch of arrows on it, as well as the name of the place each points to, and the distance away it was. Hunter wasn't sure what Darius meant until he noticed one line. It read 'Armory - > - 1km'. Hunter couldn't help but grin at Darius' idea.

*** Barracks XG, Section N, Research Compound ***

"Sir, we've hacked into the droids control mainframes. I can transfer control over to your pilots at any time." James said to Marcy, taking a small silk handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbing his glistening forehead.

"Excellent work James, you've done well." Marcy told him, slapping him on the back. "Pilots, get ready to fly. You'll be given control in 30 seconds!" He continued, now looking down at his watch as James moved over to his terminal so he could transfer control over to the human pilots. The time seemed to slow to a dead crawl as Marcy called out in increments of five.

"10 seconds&5, 4, 3, 2, 1, you are in control." He said as he counted out the last seconds. James quickly punched a key on his computer. The entire system lagged for a moment before the screens began receiving images from the droid fighters and the controls turned alive.

"My friends," The third man, who had yet to have his name spoken, said. "Good luck with killing off Nazgul Squadron."

"They will try their best, Aaron." Marcy promised, bowing slightly to the man who was in charge of their whole side of the civil war. I still think that this may be a waste of resources. We should be building more of these fighters to help us out in our war& Marcy thought to himself as he peered over the shoulder of one of the remote pilots at the man's screen.

OOC: Alright, now we cna have abit of fun. This now becomes a 'real' dogfight, and our lives are in danger. Luckily, now the droids won't be as informed as before since the pilots havn't 'learned' from us. They'll still be a hell of a challenge and everything, and what they lose in knowledge about us, they gain in human cunning and intelligence. Have fun.
 
-----------------------
SC/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

Clearly Canadian!

"Alright, here's the plan," Darius said, gather his fellow Nazguls in a huddle on the air field.  Hunter and Chak gathered close and listened intently as Darius began to explain their strategy.

"It's simple boys.  We're going to run...that's right, run.  The armory is a kilometer away, should take three minutes if you're in shape and packing light.  I don't know the quality of your stamina, but with my fifty kilograms of gear, I can still run a kilometer in about three minutes."

"We can handle that," Hunter said with a slight hint of resentment towards Darius.  "We are in the military."

"I would hope so," Darius added.  He pulled off his flight suit and revealed his coveted suit of armor and a bristling array of weapons.  Quickly, he grabbed his bag full of anonymous weapons and equipment that navy pilots do not carry...usually.  "Let's go."

The three pilots began running in the direction of the armory and weren't even stopped by the frequent stormtrooper patrols or other military personnel.  Darius was worried that his fellow pilots wouldn't be able to keep up, but in fact, they had pushed him faster that he had originally planned to run and they ran like a team, pushing and pulling each other along and attempting to keep a uniform speed.  When they were almost to the armory, Darius' environment maintenance system kicked in on his armor, cooling his body.

"I see it," Chak gasped and pointed.  Indeed they were almost there.  The compound was surrounded by an armored, electric barricade and had a large, double layered blast flanked by two turrets.  It wasn't a tall building, but it went deeper into the ground than it did going above.

"Slow boys," Darius said, not revealing any fatigue in his voice.  "We need to look like we're on a mission, but not in too much of a hurry.  I'll do all the talking."

"Yessir," Hunter said and the three Nazguls uniformly slowed to jog and confronted the stormtroopers guarding the entrance.

"What's your business here?" one the troopers asked in a monotonous voice.

"We're members of Nazgul squadron here to pick up some AA weapons and a speeder or two to test the droid fighters."

"I haven't had any of those orders come through here," said the same trooper.  "And why would you be testing them with ground-based weaponry?  Why not some special forces?"

"We're not just simple flyboys sir," Darius said and pulled his E-11 rifle so that it hung loosely off his chest plate.  "We're very capable of handling this, which may be why you haven't received orders."

"They check Dar," the other soldier said.  "Open the door."

"Darius is it?" Chak asked the stormtrooper as he joined his comrade in the duel-personed opening sequence of the armory doors.

"No, Darman," the trooper said.

"Ah," Chak replied.

As Darius, Chak, and Hunter entered the armory, they heard a too familiar explosion.  It came from the battle.

"Couldn't be one of ours could it?" Hunter asked.

"Double time now!" Darius exclaimed and they hurried down the corridor to the lift, took it down to the heavy weaponry.  Darius quickly ran through the room and carefully loaded missiles, launchers, and sensor equipment onto an ordnance cart.  As soon as he finished, a guard assigned an ordnance droid to take the weapons to the surface as they took the same lift up and out to the yard to pick a speeder.

"This one!" Darius pointed out and ran to the yard manager to check it out for use.  Hunter and Chak climbed onto the armed Superhaul II Cargo Skiff and began prepping it.  "Get the weapons loaded!" shouted while finishing the check-out process.  The ordnance droid emerged from a cargo lift out of the complex and loaded the skiff as fast as it could move safely.

"You take the skiff," Darius ordered his pilots.  "I've a got a speeder.  Once we get away from the base, gun it out the the combat zone.  I'll take lead."

Darius hopped on the speeder bike and the three Nazguls drove their vehicles to the gates.

"Good luck boys," one of the stormtroopers said and opened the gates.

"Thanks, we need it," Darius said and accelerated away from the compound, followed closely by the skiff.

(Alright, the droids have now turned and I believe we have an NPC that can be killed off, hence the explosion.  Let's see some good activity now and get this story moving.)
 
-----------------------
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
-----------------------
FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) (=*SA*=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

Casca's interceptor whined through the air as it broke through Abrae's atmosphere. He had not been briefed as thoroughly as he was accustomed to, then again...he was accustomed to doing the briefings and had shrugged off most of the advice included in his data pad. The most he picked up was the coordinates, Nazgul Seven, Mr. Evenson (Warrant Officer), droids. His own, stylish 2-75th flight suit had been repaired and fitted, and its tight fit was comfortable within a cockpit.  But he was determined to follow protocol so Casca had his regulation VE flight suit fitted a size smaller.  He was going over the enemy specs from the briefing in his head while maneuvered the fighter downward through the atmosphere.  A full layout of the ships he would be fighting went through his head. The maximum payload, atmospheric capabilities, and specs in comparison to the tie interceptor were all accounted for in his mind.

Casca noted the weather conditions as they scrolled across his data pad's view screen like a cantina marquee.  It wasn't necessary, since he could clearly see that there were no clouds to be seen, clear skies, the wild blue yonder.  Not below 500 feet, not below 40%. What kind of test was this. He had never seen a droid in combat and was not going to change his flight style for one. He would handle them like a human pilot.  I didn't spend my whole life in the academy to start changing my principles. I'll fly chase and run until I get a clean, precise shot. No funny business like those damn pirates fly!  Casca prepared to run through his systems and began tightening his harnesses. He liked them just how he flew, tight and routine. Casca turned his air vents down to cut down on noise and tucked the sleeves of his flight suit into his gloves. There were no good luck charms, no extra payload, no modified instruments, no detailing. Only a brand new interceptor, a clean slate pilot, and a helmet that needed a few silhouettes painted on it and a pay grade that would not satisfy a power hungry ex-Thrawnist. Casca cut down on thrust as gravity did most of the work to descend the interceptor down to 55,000 feet. He had cut engine power almost completly and started focusing on using the exaust nozzles to keep the fighter's angle of attack on key.

Casca had just fallen to 50,000 feet as he started checking the shield generators for combat readiness. Preparation and calculation. These are key elements in a battle...PHENNIR, when should you check your flight systems for combat readiness?    Sir, Combat readiness should be maintained at all times. Sir, The cadet will check systems before battle, after battle, and after flights considered strenuous or harmful to the craft including but not limited to asteroid navigation, flights of long duration, reentering into a planetary atmosphere, hyperspace travel, and high-g flights, Sir.    Excellent, you would all do well to remember that bit of knowledge if you expect to serve the Empire honorably. Casca looked back over his weapons systems before glancing over at his nav coordinates to make sure he was on track. I could have been a flight lead in the 181st by now, instead of playing beam-tag with some kriffing `roids in the rim! he thought to himself as he came into visual range of the target area.

"Come in, This is Crewman Phennir reporting in to Mr. Evenson as Nazgul 7," Casca said as his craft cruised at 23,000 feet.  He took off the weapons saftey and began charging up his interceptor's shields. 10%..30%...70%...full.

"Aye to that Phennir, Fire at will!" The Warrant Officer said. Casca was going over the rules in his head, making sure he did not break them.  Casca rolled his fighter to the left and fell into the battle at 19,000 feet.  His systems were at max output, and his shields were as high as a pilot could hope for.  He remembered his flight instructor's rule about cannon fire, You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take, Cadet. Use your cannons freely when not focusing on maximum engine output! Casca whined his fighter through the air toward a target on his scanners until he came to bare his sights on the bandit. Hammering his gloved fingers down onto the fire trigger, the spread of cannon fire was laid out across a lone enemy fighter that was playing cat and mouse with Casca's new Commanding Officer.

"Ten I have visual on a bandit tailing you, engaging now." Casca said through the com link in his black flight helmet.  Few of the shots fired actually made contact with the bandit's shields, but the point was to alert the bandit of his presence to draw focus from Mr. Evenson. Where is the rest of this unit? he asked himself. "Sir, I was informed this was a...whole squadron...?"

-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]
FM/CRW Casca "Black Curse" Phennir/Nazgul Squadron 2-7/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF OFF/VEN/VE[VC:B][BWC]

Casca pulled up on the flight stick to follow the droid's movement upward before hammering a barrage of laser fire onto the rear shields of the bandit. One, two, no more than four green blasts were soaked into the Indy-Tie's shields. He quickly chastised himself within his head for not getting a better shot. Casca cut down on his thrust and diverted power to his foreword shields, anticipating the coming attack from the droid bandit. As he had predicted, the droid finished off an immelman and angled down to use gravity and speed and switch to the offensive. "Sir, he's coming around to run me off!"

"I'll break and trail him, seven!" Mr. Evenson said as he banked into a hard left turn. He brought his interceptor around and set his sights on the bandit, firing at the craft as this new pilot fired at the front of the droid's cockpit. Mr. Evenson slammed the thrust foreword, sending his tie in a speedy course of revenge, laced with rage. Nazgul one's tie layered the back of the droid's shield with cannon fire, one of the blasts catching the pylon and rocking the bandit for a moment before it regained control.

Casca thanked the Emperor for Nazgul one's quick reaction. The six cannons, firing in sync with each other, were showering Casca's interceptor in green arrows of deadly energy. He fired another spread of his own fire before cutting engine power and preparing to execute a controlled stall. His last thrust of engine power angled his ship up, killing any lift the pylons would have produced and dropping the tie interceptor like a rock strait toward the ground.

The tie rolled over, its cockpit now facing the field below. Casca would not acknowledge the field, as he was focusing on the dog fight at hand. He switched shields over to the rear and cut the engines back in, jerking the craft foreword(or downward rather). He used Abrae's gravity to pick up momentum for a split moment and then rolled into an immelman at around 10,000 feet.

"I'm going to break opposite of you, then we can come around and sandwich him!" Casca heard Mr. Evenson instruct. He was astonished at the idea, he would never leave a target to catch it later, too risky, he thought. Casca decided to follow orders and began to bank his craft into a wide turn, so that he would not lose his newly gained momentum.

"Yes Sir, coming around now, ETA Five...Four..." Casca detailed as the droid came into his sights and slowly moved into his cross hairs while getting closer and closer. Mr. Evenson had broken left, coming around behind the droid with his blasters heating up the ion trail left behind by the bandit.

"Cut the chatter and SHOOT, Seven!" Mr. Evenson ordered as they both came roughly within missile range. Casca opened fire on the droids as its rear shields began to flicker under the punishment the two Nazgulians were dealing.
 
-----------------------
[-=Nazgul Squadron=-]
[-=Phoenix Wing=-]
FM/CRW Casca "Black Curse" Phennir/Nazgul Squadron 2-7/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1VENF OFF/VEN/VE[VC:B][BWC]

Darius saw the young man standing in the middle of the road and assumed it was his acclaimed new pilot.  He didn't have time to think on it, he just acted.  The Nazgul flight leader leaned slightly on his speeder bike and hit the decelerator, veering slightly to the left.  With an outstetched arm, he grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him onto the back of the bike.  As soon as he felt a thud on the bike, he released the man's collar and accelerated, forcing his new pilot to grab onto Darius' backpack.

"You could have broke my neck!" Sol shouted over the roar of the speederbike's engine.

"Did I?" Darius retorted in his usual, emotionless voice.

Sol didn't reply.  Either from the fact that he couldn't really disagree with Darius or he simply feared the man ever so slightly now.

"Do me a favor," Darius started, "reach into my pack and you should find an EMP grenade.  Hand it to me."

Sol did so and upon looking inside the pack, he fear grew ever so slightly more after trying to recognize all the weapons that were neatly organized.  He was lucky to find an EMP grenade, snatched it and handed it to Darius.

Darius armed the grenade, looked back  for a moment, and threw the grenade forward as hard as he could.  Sol was about to interject, but noticed that the grenade had only stayed in front of them for a mere second before they passed it.  Two combat Chariots rounded a corner, followed closely by three speeder bikes.  The lead Chariot flew over the grenade and it instantly exploded, scrambling any and every electrical circuit on both Chariots and all three speeder bikes.  They slowed down to a hault and flight two of Nazgul cleared the outer perimeter of the base.

Sol looked back and watched several stormtroopers become small people as the speeder bike distanced itself from the research complex.  He looked straight again and at the back of a helmeted Darius, "I'm Sol."

"Darius," he replied and punched in the com frequency for the base.  "Don't send any additional platoons of stormtroopers at us please.  I may find more harmful, yet non-lethal ways of incapacitating them next time.  Your droids are on the fritz and we're helping our squadron.  Nazgul five out."

"What are we doing now?" Sol asked, covering his eyes with his hand in an attempt to protect them from the dust they were kicking up.

Darius didn't answer his question but punched in the com frequency of his flight.  "Alright Hunter, start prepping the launchers.  We'll get right under them and start making locks."

"Yessir," came a voice of the com.

Ok, we're going to hopelessly shoot missiles at them...brilliant, Sol thought to himself.

(alright, I know it's short, but here's the plan.  Darius goal isn't really to shoot any of the droid fighters down...it would be impossible with the ground based weapons they have.  He plans to put locks on them so the pilots at the base would see that they have a missile lock on the and try to shake it, forcing them to break with whoever they after, and inevitably, it would be distracting enough that a Nazgul would latch on and shoot the fighter down.  One way or another, the room where all these droids are being controlled is going to get raid by either stormtroopers, or stormtroopers and Darius.  I haven't decided yet. You have the opportunity to continue, so let's get this story moving.)
 
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All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men to do nothing. --Edmund Burke
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FL/CWO Darius Pursius/Nazgul 2-1/mSSD Atrus/Defensive Fleet/VEN/VE (=A=) (=*SA*=) [VC:B] [*CB*] [GWC]

After getting behind the droid Trevor had had enough screwing around, and quickly flicked from cannons to missiles. He was pleased to see that Casca kept shooting, and that the droid was now having a bit of difficulty escaping from them.

"Good work Casca, keep shooting. Knock out the rear shields and I'll have a missile into his back end before he knows what's going on." Trevor said, suddenly beginning to enjoy himself in the fight. He always enjoyed flying, even under pressure, but sometimes it was harder to enjoy himself than others. Jen had crash-landed and Nazgul four had been blown to pieces, but his mood had turned. It was sad to see the new pilot die so quickly, but he would let nothing get to him during flight. Had it been Tokijin, the story would be different&

"Copy that, sir." Casca replied. Trevor was just finishing getting his lock when the rear shields of the fighter blinked out. Trevor noted out of the corner of his eye that Raigen veered off to the left, and Trevor quickly fired the missile. He cut his throttle to escape the blast radius and was pleased to see that the missile cleanly connected to the rear of the fighter. The explosion was not as dramatic as he had hoped, but large enough for his tastes.

"That's another one down, good work Casca." Trevor said, mentally tallying the kills so far. The opposing side was now down to 7 fighters, and he had lost count of how many airborne pilots Nazgul still had. The number 7 came to mind, but he wasn't totally sure. One new one had come in but they had lost a fair number of people in non-lethal accidents, and one to a lethal accident.

"Thank you, sir." Casca replied as he formed up on Trevor's wing. The squadron was getting spread out and taking on separate fights. Trevor noted that flight three had stuck together rather well, and had eliminated their fair share of fighters.

"Nazgul one, this is Hunter." Hunter broke in over the comms, Trevor not quite expecting them to be talking to them. "We've got a small ground based attack prepared for our idiotic friends, and I've got one of our new pilots down here with me, Sol he says his name is."

Trevor thought for a moment, running the name through his head as he visually scanned for a new target, picking out one that was attacking Chip. It didn't ring any bells, but he probably just hadn't noticed the message about it. He threw his fighter into a downward barrel roll and was followed by Casca as they headed to Chip's aid.

"Alright, sounds good. You guys do what you can, and keep an eye out for Jen. She crash landed a few minutes ago and should show up sooner or later." Trevor replied before cutting the comm. chatter and pulling in behind the fighter on Chip's tail. It realized quickly that he was there when a pair of green bolts struck the fighter's shields. The course was not changed though, and Casca took his turn shooting at the taken-over fighter.

"Chip, we're right behind you and going to give you a hand with this droid." Trevor told him over the comm., not getting a reply but not worrying about it at the time either. Chip was concentrating pretty hard on his escape and he didn't need the distraction of talking.

Trevor was lining up his next shot when out of nowhere the droid fighter veered off high and right. Casca broke to follow it while Trevor sat for a second wondering what had caused that.

"Was our first try a success?" He heard Hunter say over the comm. Then he realized what had caused it. Rather then shooting, their goal was simply to make the enemy fighters think that whoever was behind them had a missile lock and begin evasive action.

"Hell yes!" Trevor said loudly, followed but a shaky laugh from Chip. The man hadn't been in combat until recently, and being followed wasn't necessarily something he was yet re-used to. Trevor turned and quickly spotted Casca and the droid fleeing in the sky above him, and he and Chip swung off to follow.

A moment later, he got a report that another droid had been downed by Flight three, but not without some damage of their own. Delia's shields were now teetering at 1% and they were engaged with three other fighters. Trevor shook his head and considered the battle he was currently in. Chip and Casca were firing on the undefended rear of the current droid, and he looked down for a minute to check his radar. He looked up just in time to see a bright flash directly ahead of him and hear the explosion echo through the empty air. He flew through the explosion because he didn't have enough time to do anything else.

"Alright, Casca will be part of Flight one for the moment. We're going to go and help out flight three, got it?" Trevor asked, getting a pair of 'Copy that.'s before he banked and swung towards the four-on-three dogfight happening two kilometers to the east of their position.

*** Barracks XG, Section N, Research Compound ***

Marcy jumped as he heard a large bang against the door of their barracks. He quickly and correctly assumed that someone had managed to figure out where they were broadcasting from and had come to shut them down. One of the pilots who had been 'shot down' quickly ran over and helped Marcy adjust their barricade of the door. The building was windowless, so that would not be a problem. They had pushed all the bunk beds against the door and created mini-braces with other objects found in the barracks. It would take the Imperials at least another 15 minutes to make their way in, even if they had explosives.

"Alright men, they've found us out. I want everyone to do as much damage as they can to Nazgul squadron in the next 10 minutes, then we pack up and get out of here." Marcy informed them, but quickly found him starring into the face of James.

"And how do you expect us to get out of here, big shot?!" He half-yelled, obviously the fear was getting to him. He was a programmer, not a soldier who would be fine with fighting his way out of a building.

"We came prepared, don't piss yourself. There is a tunnel ready to go underneath this building. We simply climb through it, get to a waiting landing craft, and get the hell out of here." Marcy replied calmly, wiping a little bit of spittle off his face that had flown from James' mouth.

"Oh, I apologize." James replied quietly, quickly returning to his station to monitor all the systems collectively. As soon as he sat down though, the whole bunker shook, causing all the pilots to jerk in one way or another before quickly fixing their flight paths. The Nazgul pilots attempted to use this to their advantage.

"What was that?" Marcy asked, picking himself up off the floor.

"Turns out that we shot down one of their fighters and it crashed almost onto of this bunker. We were pretty lucky. I'm sure that their troopers will worry about that first before us." One of the pilots stated with a grin on his face. He was sort of right, as the banging on the door had stopped. Not completely right though.

A team of specialist demolition troopers was approaching the building as a bunch of regular troops were digging through the rubble outside the barracks. Two of them clutched the shoulders of the pilot and dragged it from the slightly burning interceptor. One of the storm troopers checked the vital signs while the other removed the helmet. Inside was the head of a woman, one named Delia. According to the trooper checking the vital signs, she was struggling but she was alive.

The word was quickly sent to Trevor, who acknowledged it quietly. Another rookie pilot down today. This better not last too much longer, I think someone has it in for us. He thought to himself as he re-joined the dogfight with Casca, Chip and the remainder of Flight Three.

OOC: Alright, here is a new spin on things. Someone who is in the air with us (Casca, looking at you) can post Clown's getting shot down. My idea is a friendly fire incident (seems fitting, considering her threat to shoot down Valin.) Just have someone shoot her down purely by accident. She get's cocky and decides to cut infront of someone to make a shot as they fire a missile, I don't care. Have fun with it. Clown, if you decide to return, sorry. You had your chance to apologize, and I assumed that the lack of that meant you were done here. If you wish to return, talk to me and I can work something out about bringing the character back (she didn't really die, ect). Other then that, I want to wrap this story up in about two weeks, ok? Darius, when you arrive at the bunker, have a bit of trouble getting in and if you do get in, no one is there, ok? Their equipment is, but the people are gone. Thanks.


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SC/WO2/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06

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